


Midnight Litanies

by Mother_North



Series: Attraction [7]
Category: Figure Skating RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Confessions, Declarations Of Love, Desperation, Feels, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Psychology, Romance, Swearing, yuzuvier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:15:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_North/pseuds/Mother_North
Summary: One night, one confession.





	Midnight Litanies

**Author's Note:**

> RPF disclaimer applies to this work of fiction in full and it is not meant to offend anyone. Everything described below is a product of author’s imagination only.

**

 

Javier is looking at long, quivering eyelashes and at a shadow they cast upon his pale cheeks. He lets his gaze travel lower to an enticing cupid’s bow (an arrow has hit its mark a long time ago) perfect lips, which are still a bit bruised. He wants to touch so badly it hurts but he restrains himself for time being. Yuzuru’s breathing is deep and even, not a single sound made in the stillness of the room. His face looks serene while sleeping, devoid of its usual expressiveness and agitation. As if it is made of the finest of porcelain — _doll-like_ , though his resting form emanates totally human, lively warmth that makes Javier’s skin prickle with a barely concealed excitement. Javier lowers his face and takes one deep breath, inhaling his scent where his dark hair is plastered against the tender, sweaty skin of his temple. A piquant and sweet aroma of vanilla invades his senses and he feels his heart throb painfully. He lets his hooded eyes wander to his chin where a sinful flower ( _a violet iris_?) of a hickey is starting to bloom _oh, so beautifully_. Perhaps, he really needs to control himself better next time. There are no regrets clawing at his chest — only a heady, euphoric sense of joy, growing wider and twining itself around his heart. He is finding it hard to breathe and there is one thought that keeps on flashing inside his mind: _mine, mine, mine, mine_ …

 

Like a butterfly trapped inside, beating its pair of wings against the smooth surface of the glass.

 

_Doomed._

Javier casts a glance at the clock on the bedside table and he wants to scream, if only it wouldn’t threaten an exhausted sleep of the object of his desire, curled up in his bed. To be exact, it has been three hours and twenty two minutes since Yuzuru has become a lover of his. Javier is balling his fists (so that short nails are digging into the flesh of his palms sharply); pinches the sensitive skin of his wrist while being paradoxically afraid of waking up — alone, in a cruel, blinding light of a morning _without_ Yuzuru. He swallows convulsively and there is a sore taste in his mouth at the thought of the finality which the following day might bring. It is safer to return to his silent contemplation for now. There are too many various _ifs_ and obnoxious question marks poisoning these precious moments of his proximity with Yuzuru. He has been fighting for them for so long and now they are threatened to be taken away from him both by his own inner insecurities and outward circumstances of the life needed to be led in secret, not to be caught red-handed. The notion makes his insides ache.

 

They haven’t even had a proper talk yet. Words seemed pointless to Javier yesterday’s evening for he wanted their bodies to do all of the talking.  It seemed right back then. In fact, as soon as they have stepped inside his rented apartment, he slammed Yuzuru’s back hard against the wall, pressing into him with his whole body, leaving not an ounce of a doubt in what exactly he was craving and ignoring Yuzuru’s shocked outcry completely.

 

What had happened in the span of the past few hours still seemed kind of surreal to Javier, being stuck somewhere between a dream and reality. He wanted it to become _real_ and now that he had Yuzuru all to himself he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. It reminded him of an ever elusive ray of sunlight — impossible to touch and grasp but tangibly warm on his skin. Countless times he has been told: _“No, Javi”_ , _“Not tonight”_ , _“just can’t”_. Countless times tiny, sharp needles of refusal were piercing his heart, yet he had no intention of giving up. Losing was never to his liking and he hated recognizing defeat. Besides, he was always greedy and impatient and the evidence of his hot-bloodedness could be found in the form of his finger prints all over Yuzuru’s slender neck.

 

_—_ _Listen here, Yuzu, we can go to my place after our practice session ends! I can get you the best sushi in town! Or, perhaps, I can even try making some of your beloved oyakodon or…whatever it is..._

 

_—_ _Have you heard of a new awesome first-person shooter? You won’t win, Yuzu! Betcha I shall! Come to me tonight and we’ll figure it out…I promise._

As the result, the supper was left forgotten on the table and they played a totally different kind of games that night.

 

Yuzuru shudders in his sleep and Javier’s body goes rigid at once, breath catching in his throat. He doesn’t want Yuzuru to wake up. He thinks of the prospect of looking him right in the eyes and he is not a hundred percent ready yet. He realizes that even the tiniest flicker of regret could possibly have him killed in a blink of an eye. And who could guarantee that he would see none in the starless abyss of those unimaginable, dark orbs?

 

Javier looks away, staring into the whiteness of the ceiling instead. Insecurities are eating him alive from the inside and he feels a wave of suffocating panic approaching — a sophisticated torture with fear of rejection. Thoughts are racing in his mind erratically, adding oil to fires of his inner turmoil.

 

_But he wanted it too…You’ve seen for yourself…If he didn’t he would have shoved you away, wiping your lustful smirk off of your face...No, no…Don’t you remember how he struggled at first..? You’ve forced him, stop lying to yourself…You’ve made him yours violently like some kind of a sperm-frenzied jerk… Now, that’s total bullshit! The way he was moaning…He enjoyed every fucking second…_

 

_I._ _Just. Know._

 

A downward spiral getting out of hand, Javier’s soul beginning its vicious descend. He wanted to squeeze Yuzuru’s shoulders and shake him hard while screaming straight into his gasping face:

 

“ _Do you love me?!_ Fucking tell me!”

 

So utterly pathetic and absurd it makes Javier nauseous. 

 

He gets out of bed, constantly tripping on his way to the bathroom. Ice-cold water paradoxically scalds his nerve endings and he is drinking it greedily right from the tap. He notices that his hands are trembling against the whiteness of the sink. A pair of blood-shot eyes in the mirror looks nothing short of feverish. Javier catches sight of a telling red-mark at one of his clavicles and a crooked smile appears on his flushed face. He can’t help but trace the love-bite with his fingertips, remembering taste of the lips of the one who had left it there.

 

_He had marked him. As his._

 

Javier returns to the bedroom, stopping on the threshold. He is reclining against the doorframe, eyes silently devouring Yuzuru’s delicate form, which looks even more fragile in his huge bed, sprawled amidst crumpled bedsheets and pillows. Yuzuru is lying on his stomach and a blanket is barely covering his loins, exposing his slender back to the cool night air, making his pale skin break into goosebumps. Javier swallows not wanting to move, wanting to freeze this moment of intimacy and just watch, imprinting the image of his _now_ lover’s beautiful body against the back of his eyelids. He wants to capture and hide it in the most guarded chest of his memory — to have it all to himself… forever.

 

Sensual images of the last three hours flood his mind, resurfacing from the depth of his consciousness — vivid and arousing: their tangled bodies (it seemed their skin was melting from the ecstatic heat they were drowning in), the way Yuzuru was arching up beneath him, his powerful thighs squeezing his lower back, urging him to move _in_ and _in_ and _in_ , deeper and deeper in a non-ending circle of sexual frenzy. He was giving himself to Javier with an almost masochistic abandon, caught in the throes of vicious delight, simultaneously cruel and euphoric, wet moans branding Javier’s sensitive skin.

 

It makes Javier shudder. He longs to have Yuzuru in his arms again, as close as possible, needing yet one more reassurance, one more touch to feel his body so that he could once again be proven that what he is seeing is for real — the pale apparition in front of him being of blood and flesh and not just a product of his lust-induced mind. Javier does what he desires and the price he pays in the form of Yuzuru’s sleepy grumble and a pointy elbow to his ribs seems fair enough.

 

 — Stop this now, Javi!

 

Javier is biting the back of his neck, sucking the supple skin there passionately, his arms closing around Yuzuru’s bare midriff; the boy’s body still pliant, his reflexes slowed-down after sleep. A spark of severe want ignites in Javier’s veins as it starts to pulse achingly-sweet in his underbelly.

 

— Want you so fucking bad, Yuzu…

 

Javier’s voice is hoarse. Yuzuru turns around in his arms, staring at his burning face intently. Javier is shrinking involuntarily from the sheer intensity of his gaze, feeling as if he has suddenly become smaller, losing in size and significance. Yuzuru is looking at him as if he is about to stand up, get dressed and go away without looking back, simply leaving him there — his chest tore open and heart dripping with blood. It’s a mortifying thought that makes tiny hairs on his skin stand on end, bedsheet clinging to his sweaty back disgustingly.

 

Here comes the moment he has been afraid of the most.

 

Javier puts his index finger to Yuzuru’s already half-parted lips, the gesture stopping the words that are ready to spill, leaving them unsaid. Javier knows his speech is confused and hectic but confession keeps on pouring out of him in a liberating torrent of words, a dam finally broken. He is saying that he has lost his mind the moment he saw _him_ , that _his_ smile can easily pass for a weapon of mass destruction, that _his_ eyes are a sight to behold right after _he_ lands a quad successfully, that he wants to drown in _his_ flavor and that he dreams for this night to never end. It sounds feverous and Javier keeps on switching from Spanish to English and back again all of the time, words and feels outpacing vestiges of rationality. Love delirium doesn’t acknowledge grammar rules or limitations dictated by the lack of fluency in a foreign language. Pure, unrestrained emotions are gushing out of Javier as he is speaking on and on, voice rising excitedly. Perhaps, this improvised, sudden confession of his may seem a tad ridiculous and it is surely _the strangest_ he has ever made in his life but nothing can take away its raw sincerity.

 

Yuzuru isn’t even trying to say a word; his heavy breathing tickling the sweaty palm of Javier’s hand, his pupils blown wide, shiny eyes pitch-black and impenetrable.

 

_Two black holes to suck one enamored soul into._

 

At long last, Javier falls silent, a spring of words gone dry. He lowers his head each passing second of Yuzuru’s speechlessness making his eyes burn, mouth jerking violently and spasmodically at one corner. Suddenly, he feels crushed, an absurd thought of burying himself in these very bedsheets (that are still smelling of their bodies and sex) clouding his mind. May this same bed where he has sacrificed his loving heart become his final abode as it has been an altar for his passion, if only for a single blissful night.

 

_You are such a fool, Javier._

 

— You mean you _do_ love me, Javi..?

 

Yuzuru doesn’t need an answer to the question that has become rhetorical just a couple of minutes ago, Javier’s hot dry lips kissing every centimeter of his glowing face with unhinged desperation. Javier’s mouth is next to his ear, teeth grazing his earlobe lightly, whisper heady and wild: _perhaps, everything happened too soon_ _—_ _sorry; perhaps, I was too rough with you yesterday —_ _sorry; perhaps, I would never ever let you go —_ _sorry._

 

_sorry, sorry, sorry_

 

Midnight litany. Of their love.

 

When Javier steeps into a deep, satisfied slumber he finds that he doesn’t need to be afraid of waking up anymore and it is more than enough.

 

**


End file.
